Commentary: Can a “show boat” crucial to the race survive the storms of history?
When you break up a sailboat, disaster can happen. Removing the planks from the hull, re-adjusting the rudder, and placing too much cargo on one end of the steerage can cause even the sturdiest schooner to capsize in cold, rough waters. As for Jerome Kern and Oscar Hammerstein II show boatA giant leap forward in the development of a Broadway musical, seaworthiness was an issue long before director David Herskovits began writing it. A bold transformation. Not that one show boat To be precise, the hit of the 1927 stage play led to three film versions and six Broadway revivals (the most recent of which ended in 1997). Still, this seminal fusion of drama and operetta has been tinkered with and redrawn over the decades for one reason: its attitude toward race. The popular black lettering and condescending lovable black characters may have been candid, even liberal, at the time, but in 2025 it reads like the morally disturbing remnants of a creepy Americana. Racial slurs have gradually been replaced by milder language, but stereotypes remain. As a cultural landmark, show boat Stay afloat, but dare we board?
Herskovitz and his talented team of musicians and performers make a strong case for revisiting this sprawling, tonally dissonant classic—and not just for its truly gorgeous songs. Adaptation of Edna Ferber’s novel about life on a Mississippi River showboat cotton flowerCohen created a rich score using spirituals, Dixieland music, European waltzes and emerging jazz. The composer’s musical picture, with its broad emphasis and rich motives, resulted in some breakthrough tunes: the heart-warming duet “Make Believe,” the bluesy ballad “Can’t Help Lovin’ Dat Man” and the melancholy song ” Ol’ Man River” famously written by Paul Robeson – and that’s just the first act. Anchored by Hammerstein’s deft and impassioned lyrics, these numbers sprout from the vile apartheid backdrop like a prayer for a better world – or else, like opium, forget the world.
To the delight (or dismay) of those familiar with the cornerstones of the American Songbook, musical directors Dion McLean Freeney and Dan Schlossberg have made bold changes to the score. The former creates extremely intimate vocal arrangements for ten actors, who switch between principal roles, supporting roles and choruses. At the same time, Schlossberg pared back the orchestral arrangements from the traditional dozens of players to a six-piece band including electric guitars. The result is a world as polyglot and astonishingly sonic as Hammerstein’s play, which veers from swooning vaudeville to domestic tragedy. One minute, spunky chef Queenie (Susannah Darrell) is wooing black audiences with carnival-like shouts and “Come on, guys!” A few scenes later, the naive Mulan (Rebecca Vega-Romero) and the handsome gambler Gaylord Ravenal (Philip Semio Stoddard) exchange honeysuckle-like “You are love” romance each other. The band may be small, but it sounds lovely under Freeney’s direction, and Vega-Romero and Stoddard’s blend of voices (and lips) is captivating.
In addition to a canny reduction of power, the score has been subtly tweaked to bring those fragrant melodies closer to modern ears (i.e., to make Kern sound less white). When Julie (played by Volcano Stephanie Weeks) sings “Can’t Help Lovin’ Dat Man,” those poignant vocals start to swing even more, taking on a smoky R&B style. After the intermission, she plays Julie like a drug-nodding Billie Holiday when Wicks delivers a tender ode to an unglamorous lover, “Bill,” who is suddenly struck by a wave of demons A blast of energy, ending the song with a dissonant, angry wail. It’s a shocking sonic shift. Yes, those who want to hear a very dignified, very attentive “Bill” may be offended, but it’s a very good effect.
To the stage, Herskovits brings a focus on minimalist stage imagery and a love of gestural performance that he developed over decades as founder of the experimental company Target Margin Theatre. Kaye Voyce’s uplifting scenic design includes harsh elements such as a wide white scrim marking the doorway with a large black-and-white sign with letters printed in reverse. Costume designer Dina El-Aziz draped the actors in white sashes with the word WHITE written on them, also in all caps, which they would put on or take off when playing white people. The cast is diverse, with dynamic, engaging performers, including downtown legend Steven Rattazzi (if avant-garde theater had a tumblerhe is) and the charismatic Tẹmídayọ Amay, a slender and mysterious presence, plays the second banana dancer Frank and the ominous Sheriff Vallon with equal grace.
In a sense, Hammerstein’s play tells the story of four marriages over the course of several decades, from the South to Chicago and back: two happily married, two with unhappy endings. Queenie is married to Joe (Alvin Crawford), a black stevedore who sings “Old Man River.” While the details of their spiny union aren’t explored in depth, they appear to be a relatively stable pairing. The same goes for Captain Andy (Ratazzi) and his overbearing wife Patty (J. Molière): she fears him, and he ignores her in favor of showing off. The saddest side of the marriage ledger is Julie (Wicks), the heroine of “Marriage.” cotton flower That is until her biracial identity is revealed, forcing her to leave. Julie’s white husband and leading man Steve (Edwin Joseph) bravely accompanies her, but she abandons her to the North. The final couple, whose story is placed squarely in the foreground, are Mulan and Gaylord, Captain Andy and Patsy’s stage daughter, who falls in love with a gambling-obsessed but kind-hearted lothario.
show boat At its heart, this is not a story about marriage, but about methods of survival: whether that means escaping the poverty that can befall women in illegitimate marriages, or living with the injustices of an apartheid society. As “Old Man River” reminded us throughout the evening, life is hard and nature is uncaring. This philosophical abandonment may be touching, but today’s sensibilities are more toward social justice, intervention, progress. through peeling show boat Herskovitz wants us to see, appreciate, and judge this material at our core, taking a critical look at its social and showbiz mechanics. His title for this adaptation is more like an essay: Show/Boat: A River. What about in the river? Flotsam and debris are available for our closer inspection.
another revival show/boat What naturally comes to mind is the film directed by Daniel Fish Oklahoma! Transferred to Broadway in 2019. Still, both reveal the darker side of musical comedy and position the work toward a multiracial audience capable of navigating complexity and irony. Let’s be honest, liberal reimaginings of famous musicals have been around for a while. A high-concept rendition of John Doyle Sweeney Todd Already 20 years old. company It has been renovated twice. Even Andrew Lloyd Webber’s cheesy, clunky musicals benefited from the director’s invention: Witness Cat: Jellicle Ball Video Saturation with Jamie Lloyd sunset strip.
Even so, in this grim and confrontational moment cotton flower Won’t be to everyone’s taste. Purists or anyone allergic to experimental theater tropes (metatheatrical jokes, showmanship, deadpan delivery) may flee during intermission. I’ve had a few people do that at my shows. it helps to read Original lyrics or watch 1936 movie Before leaving. I did both, and it helped me appreciate how a stage show can scrape away a century of cultural rust and sentimentality to reveal a musical theater masterpiece that is often deeply sad and often funny. Full disclosure: this is the first show boat I’ve seen it live. Will this be my last? In two years’ time, the centenary will arrive. Has the country changed so much that no rewrites can justify a return to Broadway? Or will the Orman River roll? backwardtaking us into a past that does not belong to us and does not want to live?
Show/Boat: A River | One intermission every 2 hours and 30 minutes. |NYU Skiball | 566 LaGuardia Square | 212-998-4941 | Buy tickets here
